Under The Influence
by That Old Black Magic
Summary: Booth's journey from a bar to the car with one very drunk Brennan in tow! We've made it to the end guys! BB fluff and humour. Complete.
1. One Very Drunk Anthropologist

" Sex bomb, sex bomb!" Brennan drunkenly slurred as the audience cheered and wolf-whistled. She staggered off her home-made stage, down to her friends.

Angela and Jack were making out and Zach was staring at Brennan with wide eyes. Booth was too, for a matter of fact. He had come into the bar half way through Tom Jones' Sex bomb to find Brennan on a table, singing and waving her arms.

It was a scary sight. "I'm so gonna need therapy after that," he said, grabbing Brennan's coat. "Right, let's get you to the car." He took her arm and led her towards the door. The squint squad waved drunkenly after her.

Crap, he thought. The car is parked like a mile away, the bar's parking area was too full. Oh well, I'm just gonna have to suffer a very drunken Bones.

"Bones!" he said sharply, as Brennan tried to stuff her head through her coat sleeve.

"Booth," she moaned, "My jacket's got smaller." He suppressed a smile as he righted her.

"Right, this way Bones," Booth spoke reassuringly, leading her once again by the arm.

"You know something?" she said, barely taking two steps.

"What?" he asked, dragging her like a stubborn child.

"You'll look good with pigtails," she smiled reassuringly at him, like she had told him the sky was blue. Brennan pointed somewhere near his left ear and said, "Yeah, with a parrot."

Booth couldn't help it. He laughed. Bones was a hoot when she was sloshed. He wanted to see what else she could say.

"What's your name?" he asked her, trying to keep a straight face.

"Temper Tantrum but Tampon for short!" she shouted merrily while Booth shook with mirth.

"What do you work as?" he choked, thinking of calling her Tampon when she was sober.

" Fantastic Aunt Pieologist," she replied seriously, while Booth snorted.

"You are completely smashed," he said, smiling fondly at her. Please let the car be near here, he wished.

"Ponies!" she shrieked, dragging him towards the main road. Oh God no, Booth thought. Not the cops on horses.

"Can I have a pony ride?" she asked the woman, eyes pleading. The two officers turned to Booth, asking him with their eyes, Is she for real?

"I'm sorry, she's really drunk. I'm just trying to get her to the SUV," Booth said hurriedly, while Brennan tried to poke the horse's nose.

"No, don't do that," Booth said, holding her back from trying to get a hold of the reigns.

"Mate, she's spaced out. Just take your girlfriend home," the male officer said, before urging his brown mare onwards.

Booth wasn't going to correct the man's error but instead made his attempt to get her moving again. She jumped on his back and threw her arms around his neck.

"Pony ride!" she cried, happily, urging him onwards. Drink obviously made her seriously mad and act a bit like a child.

Booth carried her a few blocks and then set her down. His back was getting sore. He was looking around for a sense of where the SUV was parked, when he heard her talking.

He turned round and she had her phone out. "Is your refrigerator running?" she asked before shouting, "You'd better catch it then!" She flicked her phone shut and threw it back into her bag, cackling like a mad woman.

He spotted the car when she said, "Hey Booth, will you buy me a gun for my birthday?"

"Of course," he smiled at her, glad at last to have found the car.

"Really?" she squeaked excitedly, "Can I shoot someone?"

Booth decided not to answer as he got her into the car. He rolled down the window for her, in case she felt sick.

She hung her head out the window as they drove. Booth smiled. Brennan was really wasted tonight, she didn't even sound like herself.

They got to her apartment building and waited a while at her door as she tried to shove her key into her letterbox.

Booth took the key off her and unlocked it for her. "I'll see you in the morning," he said.

She came back and kissed him on the nose. "Thanks for being nice to me." She saluted him before flounced away, door clicking shut.

Booth laughed. He was gonna enjoy this in the morning.

* * *

A/N: Well it probably wasn't very funny but I had a good time writing it. It was just something to amuse myself with. If you want me to continue, lemme know! 


	2. Rise and Shine

A/N: Well people you asked for the next chapter and here it is. I thank everyone for their comments. I was impressed by the amount of people who found it funny and who asked for more. This chapter will not be half as amusing but if you guys want, I could always have the follow-up chapter to this. I mean Booth drunk. Do let a girl know. Have fun!

* * *

"Oh Bones!" he yelled loudly, banging the door. Rise and shine! Fine, we don't want to open the door, then I'm gonna just have to break down the flaming door!"

He stepped back and was about to run at it, when Brennan appeared. She looked awful. "Hi Bones," he smiled at her, muscling his way into the apartment.

She wore the same clothes as the night before and her make-up was smudged. "Nice war paint," he commented, indicating her cheeks.

She growled. "Unless you want me to call you Big Pain I suggest you shut up."

Booth had the ultimate comeback. "And unless you want me to call you Tampon, I suggest _you_ shut up."

Brennan was appalled. "Tampon! Do I look like a sanitary towel to you!?"

"You know they're not the same thing?" he asked, amused.

"Of course I know they're bloody well not. Booth," she said, while he tried to hold his laughter in check.

"What?" he said, a major grin on his face.

"Shut it." She stalked off to her bedroom and slammed the door, leaving him holding onto the sofa for support.

* * *

Booth decided Brennan must have continued her party solo last night. A black mound which could have been noodles in a past life, were stuck to the ceiling.

"Jeez Bones, what the heck were you doing last night when I left ya?" he inquired as she returned in fresh clothes.

"Heck knows. The apocalypse could have happened and I wouldn't remember." She tied her damp hair back in a bun as she said this.

"True. You would have asked if there was a giant lava lamp outside your window." He spoke truthfully, which earned him another withering glare.

"Will you scrape that off for me?" she implored of him, pointing to the charred remains of food.

"Since when was my name Cinderella?" he shot back, reaching up with a broom.

" I think you would look nice in overalls," she teased which earned her the sharp reply, "You also thought I would look good in pigtails with a parrot."

He heard her bedroom door slam again.

* * *

The silence in the car was deafening. Booth spoke up, "You know, Bones, I think you and I should go out for a drink sometime, say this weekend?"

"You kidding?" she shot back. "I've consumed enough martinis to stop George Clooney selling them on TV."

Booth was impressed by the reference and he chuckled. "Well, we could go out anyway and _I _could drink alcohol. You could have this exotic new drink which everyone loves."

"What's that?" she asked, curious.

"Coke." He laughed heartily at her unhappy stare, wondering what state the squints were in.

* * *

Booth soon found the answer to his question. He wished he had a camera. Lying asleep on an examination table, with a skull on his head was Zach. He look like some sort of ancient cow killer.

Jack looked dead, covered in dirt and what looked like cornflakes. And water balloons lying all over the place. "Ah yes," Booth mused in a philosophical voice. " The sea of dirty soggy cornflakes. Always wanted to visit there."

Brennan elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Stop it," she hissed.

But even she couldn't help laughing. Angela was zoned out at her office desk, with ink all over her face. She had cat whisker's and a button nose drawn on. And a beard.

"Great look Ang. How will any man be able to resist?" she teased, helping her friend stand as she stared blankly at the anthropologist.

"I never knew how much fun you lot could be. We are so going out drinking again this weekend," Booth chimed happily as he went to prevent Hodgins drowning in Special K.


	3. Enter One Smashed FBI Agent

A/N: Well hello kids. This is what you asked for and I gave it to you. If you have any ideas of how to continue this further, drop me a line. If not I'll leave it here. If anything in this chapter offends you, then I'm sorry. Not trying to insult you or anything!

I was once again, impressed by the amount of people who found that funny. One person even called me hilarious. All I've got to add is, if you think these comments are giggle-worthy, then I am 10 times as bad with crazy comments in real life. My friends will vouch for me. Enjoy!

* * *

Saturday night found the squint squad well under way to being completely wasted. And it wasn't long before Brennan decided to get Booth home. It was the same bar as before, so naturally the car park was overflowing. Once again, the long haul to the car began. 

"Booth, I think you're just a bit tipsy," she said, deciding to stay sober herself that night.

"Ah but my fair lady," he said with a cheeky smile, "You love me this way."

"Of course, I totally love the fact that you are now a drunken idiot," she replied sarcastically.

"Why don't you love me Bones?" he asked her. But before she could reply he said, "It's ok, don't answer. I know why. You do love me, you just don't want to admit it."

"And why would that be?" she said, brow crinkled in confusion.

"Because I'm too sexy for my own good."

Oh God, he thinks he's Johnny flaming Depp now. Why, oh why me? Her thoughts asked her this but she couldn't come up with an answer. Apparently drink made Booth deliriously happy and too damn cocky.

A few steps on, he put his hand on her ass and smiled, "Bones, will you have sex with me?"

Her answer came as a quick slap on the wrist and a curt, "I'd rather die a virgin."

With this, he began to babble nonsensically. " Why can't you act normal and be quiet?" she asked exasperatedly.

He, also became exasperated, "Why can't you act normal and have sex with me?" He waved his hands around in absurd gestures.

Booth was not so much of a gent when drunk. "Why did we ever agree to go out drinking with you?" Brennan asked this more of herself than of him.

But still, he was the one who came up with an answer. "Because…because…" Apparently his memory had went.

"We could marry you to Theodore Roosevelt," he suggested, smiling brightly at her.

"He's been dead quite a while," she patted his arm in a reassuring fashion.

Booth look at her like she had went mad. "No he's not. He's my next-door neighbour."

" At last, the car!" she shouted happily, glad at the thought she would be able to get rid of the intoxicated agent.

"Oh good, I get to show off my brilliant driving skills. I used to do rally driving pro, you know," he said, winking at her.

"Of course you did," Brennan replied in a patronizing tone. "Just like I'm about to become the Pope."

"Are you really?" he inquired excitedly as they moved towards the car. "You don't have your big cross." He pouted at her, his expression becoming more comical by the minute to Brennan.

"Why would I need a big cross?" she said, crossing the street carefully.

"So you could carry Jesus' body around with you." He gave her this answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She could almost hear an unspoken 'Duh' in the air.

And to think, Booth was a good Christian too. He shouldn't talk that way.

"Hold on, wait a second," she proclaimed suddenly. "You aren't driving. You are out your face on some Scottish beverage. I'm not letting you drive!"

"Scottish? Whisky! I love whisky!" he said in a hearty tone, clapping his hands together.

"That's obvious. You smell like a brewery," That answer was slightly muffled by the fact she was heaving Booth into the passenger's seat.

She clipped him in like a child before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat. She clicked her own seatbelt and started the ignition.

Brennan drove along the road at a steady, if not slightly slow pace. She didn't want Booth getting excited and throwing up all over the place.

She spied what looked like an old homeless woman up ahead and began to brake. Instead Booth reached over and grabbed the leg which pushed the accelerator.

The car sped up and they were racing towards the old woman taking her time across the road with her shopping trolley full of cans.

Brennan managed to turn the wheel and avoid her, just as Booth shouted, "Ten points for old Granny!"

"Booth," she gasped, shocked.

" Jeez Bones, I wasn't really gonna hit her. Just ruin my fun, why don't cha? Plus if we had run her down, we could have got her trolley and tied it to the back." Booth took to staring out the window, annoyed with Brennan.

Brennan really didn't like a dangerous Booth. He would never act like this when sober. He was far too kind and thoughtful to be this uncaring but at the moment, that had all went to hell in a handbag.

"Isn't supposed to be cans you tie onto the back of your vehicle?" she shot him a questioning gaze before her eyes returned to the road.

"Yeah, isn't that what I just said?" She was getting real tired of him looking at her like she had the IQ of road kill.

At last, she managed to get him to his apartment. Apparently, Booth didn't need to open doors. He could walk through them. So when he ran, slap bang into his front door and fell backwards, it came as a bit of a shock to him.

Brennan laughed and helped him to his feet. They made it inside when Booth insisted on having more fun.

He went to get a glass of water, saying that they could have a water fight. Brennan really didn't think this was his best plan.

But she didn't need to worry. His aim was so poor, that he missed her by two metres and threw water all over his phone.

It was by chance, that at this precise moment, the phone began to ring. "It sounds a bit like Minnie Mouse drowning," he said, frowning, before wandering away into his bedroom.

It was Angela. "Hey Bren, you'll never guess. Zach and Hodgy are square dancing. They'd be great in Calamity Jane!"

Brennan had had enough pop culture references to last her a lifetime. "Good night Ang," she said, to her very drunken best friend before hanging up the phone.


	4. Waking Up

A/N: Took me a while but I got there. I've been busy with schoolwork but I'm officially back. I'm surprised once again who found the last chapter funny. This one is not gonna be half as funny. I know I said that before and was wrong but I'm right now! 

Just enjoy kids and if you want me continue further, send me your funny ideas!

* * *

Booth woke with a killer headache. Jeez, he thought. "Feel like I've sat through one of the squint's long technical chats," he said aloud, when Brennan entered.

"You mean the ones where you snore and drool on the table?" she asked, handing him a glass of water and something for his headache.

"I don't!" he argued quietly. She shot him a nasty grin.

"Then why, pray tell, is your pillow all soggy?" she said, pointing at his rather wet pillow. " I got to hand it to you Booth, you really do make great entertainment."

He looked at her strangely. "Oh you don't remember? Well that's ok, I have evidence." She whipped out some photos and handed them to him. They had been taken on Booth's instant camera which he kept lying around.

There he was, in a nurse's outfit. With his cute little hat and stethoscope. And what looked to be freshly shaven legs.

"You shaved my legs!" he practically screamed, throwing back the covers and staring in horror at his smooth calf muscles.

" One, they're waxed. And two, it was _you_ not me, who did that. You thought it would make you look more feminine."

She laughed deeply at Booth's stunned face. Brennan quickly snatched the pictures back. "I'll be keeping this," was her only explanation before shoving it in her back pocket.

"What I want to know is, why you have this in the first place?" she asked, trying to stop her smile from showing. "Didn't know you liked dress-up Booth."

Booth couldn't summon an answer, which made Brennan break into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

They were in the kitchen and Booth was teasing Brennan about some of the stuff she had done when intoxicated. 

"You know Seeley Booth, you ain't no saint yourself. And speaking of saints.." she trailed off.

"Oh please no," he begged, closing his eyes.

"Better start saying your Hail Marys the now." She suggested helpfully.

"That bad?" he asked while she nodded.

"You're actually a damn flirt when drunk!" she suddenly exploded, remembering his plea of sex to her.

"I know, but the ladies love it." This was Booth's suave reply which annoyed her.

She indicated the empty apartment. "I'm sorry, but I don't see the fan girls breaking down the door and stampeding me!"

This threw Booth off course. He turned to her and moved pointedly at her. She backed away playfully, but ended up trapped in a corner. He stood with one arm leaning on the wall, blocking her escape.

"Yes that's true. But I was in here all alone last night with one sexy lady and nothing happened. Why?" he asked, his brown eyes locking with her blue ones.

"Because…" she grinned evilly. ".. I doubt you and your poster of Playboy girl would have made it to third base."

She managed to push past him, laughing at his evident surprise.

* * *

Brennan showed the squints the photo of Booth on Monday. They laughed. Hard. 

They apologised profusely to Booth and tried their hardest to keep straight faces before breaking down again.

They had tales of their own to tell. Apparently the square dancing had taken a turn for the worst. A brutish woman had apparently got a hold of Zack and swung him around like a rag doll.

This resulted in Zack now going round the lab on crutches, his right foot in plaster. "Damned woman," Booth teased, "Got too into Cotton-Eye Joe?"

Zack sent Booth a death glare while mentioning something about stitches. "Oh yeah," Angela started. "Hodgy got into a fight and got a bust nose. He was rolling around on the floor with this other guy."

This explained the tape now firmly across his nose. "I heard you fight like a pansy nine-year-old girl," Booth said innocently, getting pay-back for them laughing ridiculously at him.

"I fight better than some, daisy-brain. Anyway, I was defending the lady's honour," Hodgins said proudly, smiling at Angela.

"Yeah, unlike some men who have none," Brennan entered, staring pointedly at Booth.

"Me?" Booth asked, shocked.

"Yeah, you. You asked me to have sex with you. Are you really that desperate?" she said, shaking her head in a disapproving manner.

Booth slid his arm round her waist, "No, it's because you're almost too beautiful to resist." A serious look entered his eyes and she knew he wasn't teasing any more.

They stared at each other for a long moment before the guys went off to chat. "Men," the ladies said in unison.

"I'll never work them out," Brennan said confused, looking after Booth's retreating figure.

"Please, the questions of life are easier to figure out," Angela said, causing both women to laugh heartily and wander off in search of a good chat.


	5. Bras and Strippers!

A/N: Half the idea and some of the comments come from niah1988. She gave me the idea in her last review, so personally guys, i think you guys should send the lady a kiss or something!

Her comments are funny, mine i'm not so sure. There will however be another chapter because we need to have them in the jail. Please review if you like or have time. Enjoy!

* * *

"Bones?" he asked as he came through her office door. "Wanna go for a drink tonight?" 

"Yeah, give me a sec. I'll finish up here and then I'll go get Ang," Brennan said, furiously scribbling notes on the latest case file.

Booth froze. "I was kinda thinking it could just be me and you tonight. We never do anything together."

Brennan was touched. "Right. Ok, strike, reverse that. I'm done here, grab my coat and we'll go right now. Do I look ok?"

Booth smiled reassuringly as he grabbed her jacket from it's hook. "You look fine, you always do."

Brennan smiled a true smile at him and gently put her arm through his.

* * *

Three hours later and the party was in full swing. Booth had had one too many whiskies and Brennan's martini count was into double figures. It was a shame they'd never work out who won the bet to drink the most. 

Brennan had a sudden outburst. "Oh shit, my bra!"

"Ah, the bra," Booth replied, "Such a wonderful thing. Much more fun taking it off than putting it on, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, you would know cause you've worn a bra. Little Miss Naughty Nurse. What colour was yours?"

Booth laughed, "Virgin white since you ask. From here, I can tell yours is saucy red. Up for some lovin' Bones?"

"Yeah, that guy in the corner is kinda cute. But my bra's on backwards. You're gonna need to fix it for me," she replied.

Booth reached out to grab Brennan but she walked away towards the guy in the corner. "Hi," she said sexily into his ear. "Could you twist my bra round the right way please?"

The man lifted an eyebrow questioningly and began to finger the buttons on Brennan's shirt. Booth staggered his way over to them, people having to swerve to avoid him, the stench of drink was so strong.

"Hey pal," he started. "Hands off my bra!" He shooed the man's hands away in a childish manner.

"Your bra?" The man's eyebrow had practically been sown into it's raised position.

"Yeah, _my_ girl, _my_ bra. If anyone's going to feel her up it's gonna be me. Now scram! Before I kick you so hard, you walk like a cowboy for a week." The man walked away, thinking about how many raving loonies were in the world today.

Brennan was fiddling with her bra so much, Booth asked, "You trying to stuff a twenty down there? To be a stripper, the shirt needs to come off first."

"Why didn't you just shoot his sorry ass?" Brennan asked, swishing her way back towards the bar. Brennan grabbed their seats back by shoving their current occupants off them.

Booth began in a whining tone, "Because that means I would need to shoot him. Then I would have got _my_ ass hauled in, then I would have got _my _ass kicked. Then the boss would have droned on and on…"

Brennan was snoring loudly and drooling slightly. Booth shook her shoulder roughly. She woke with a start, "Bra!" She then continued to mumble, "Backwards, fix, stud muffin, fix, hehe!"

Booth was just as wasted as she was, so understood completely what was meant. To anyone else, this meant absolutely heehaw. He wiggled his hands under her shirt and unhooked her bra, in an attempt to right her.

"Ah, freedom!" she shouted, pulling the bra from underneath her top to wave in the air like a lasso.

Brennan had an idea. She stepped round behind Booth and tied the bra tightly around Booth's chest area. "Aren't you the sweetest little man with man-boobs I ever did see?" she grinned at him.

The problem was, Brennan's bra had a cute little button right in the centre. But with the amount of extra space it had to try and cover, Booth's chest being so large, it couldn't handle the strain.

The bartender bent down to ask them if they wanted another drink when something hit him. _Ping!_ The button got him right between the eyes.

"Bull's-eye!" Booth and Brennan yelled in unison as the man flopped down behind the bar, pulling a beer pump down as he went. The beer began to flood the now unconscious man.

"Woo!" Booth shouted, hopping over the bar and filling glasses.

A pretty woman, dressed like a police officer, slid onto a stool at the bar to talk to Booth. She addressed him, "Sir, you are under arrest for being too darn sexy."

Booth grinned in glee. "Finally, someone who understands my true value! Did you hear that, Bones?!"

"Now, now. Look this way or I'll be forced to cuff you," the woman grabbed Booth's face in an attempt to make him look at her since he only had eyes for the now bra-less anthropologist who was eyeing him up and down with a sexy smirk. Even in his drunken state of mind, he was aware that he had never seen Brennan smile like that. The pretty woman lightly tapped his cheek to regain his attention. She sent him a sexy smile of her own with an accompanying wink. This is when Booth came to realise that she was, perhaps, a stripper dressed for the job as a police officer.

Booth narrowed his eyes to take a good look at the woman. "Hmpf," he breathed, letting a large puff reeking of alcohol wash over her face, "A police officer is nice but do ya know what is really _really_ hot? An antromo … anthrolo … Tampon is!" he exclaimed, thrusting a finger in Brennan's direction who had been wrapped up in the examination of the bottom of her shoe during the whole conversation but was now staring with a what-a-pretty-haircut look at the man standing beside her.

Apparently a particularly greasy looking man had sauntered over to Brennan while Booth had been occupied with the supposed stripper. The man with the slimy Mohawk haircut was chatting her up when a large mug of beer was thrown over his head.

"She's mine!" Booth slurred, jumping once again over the bar and rugby tackling the man.

The woman dressed like a police officer attempted to break up the fight while Brennan tried to reach for the woman's gun.

"Right, that's it. You two, are under arrest for disturbing the peace," she cuffed Booth while coaxing Brennan along with her gun.

"Hey wait a sec. You can't arrest me for being sexy. And I thought you said you were a stripper. Why aren't you taking off your clothes?" Booth asked, genuinely perplexed.

The partners were shoved into the back of a police car, while the officer muttered about, " Mad to think the uniform would let me score. All I get is drunks and junkies. Be moving onto the killers next."

Brennan was very excited to be moving in a car with 'flashy things' on top. "Friendly head butt!" she shouted, meaning to gently bump heads with Booth.

It didn't turn out that way though. She smacked heads with her partner, leaving them both unconscious, speeding towards the local jail.


	6. Bailed from Jail

The sun shone heavily through the bars of the cell. Brennan woke with the sun in her eyes. "Ok, ok, I'll tell you everything I know. Please, just turn the light off!" she said, her eyes squinting before realising the truth.

She looked down at her hands, before rolling onto her other side. On that side was Booth, still asleep and snoring slightly. She nudged his shoulder with her still bound hands.

"Booth!" she hissed, hitting him roughly. "Booth!" She hit him roughly again, rolling him completely off the bench. He hit the floor with a thud. "Ouch Bones, what the heck was that for?"

This brought an evil smile to her face. "Aww, did poor baby hit his head?" She said in a patronizing tone, laughing at his unimpressed face.

She asked him, "Booth, how do you feel about handcuffs?" She managed to keep hers hidden from him, from the angle he was lying at on the floor.

Booth answered confidently, "Unless a sexy lady is wearing them, I'm not so big on them. Why?"

Causing Brennan to smirk was never a good thing. She spoke in a playful tone, "Be grateful yours aren't pink and fluffy then."

Booth looked down at his hands before saying, "Ah crud."

* * *

Booth didn't think his day could have got any worse. With a blindingly sore headache and one very pissed off, confined-in-a-small-space Bones, he was frightened for his life. All he needed now was his whole office to show up and do the Macarena.

He couldn't have been more wrong when an officer appeared at the door of the cell. The man was clearly an idiot, that much Booth could tell.

This was all he needed, when Brennan looked ready to freak out at any minute. He just severely hoped she was going to pull a Psycho special and find a knife to plunge into him with eerie music playing to each stab.

"Through here!" he called to an unknown person.

"Oh my God," Booth uttered. "Someone up above really hates me."

It was none other than Angela. " It looks like someone had fun last night." She indicated the bra round the Booth's chest. "And to think all I had was hot steamy sex."

"Angela!" Booth said, in the fashion of too-much-info.

"Don't you Angela me. I'm not the macho FBI agent who's wearing a bra," she said before reaching into her bag. "I came here to pay the bail but first, I'm gonna have my fun."

Brennan had said nothing up until this point but when Angela Montenegro pulls out a camera, you know you're in trouble.

"Please Ang, we're not in the zoo! You don't get to bring your kids, take some snaps of us before buying stuffed versions in the gift shop!" Brennan said, eyes fiery with humiliation.

"Oh, a stuffed mini of Seeley Booth. Now that's something worth buying," Angela smiled, taking a rapid succession of quick clicks before throwing the camera into her bag.

She turned to the officer. "Let them out, yeah?"

She slid the envelope with the money along the counter to him. He opened the cell door and uncuffed the pair. Brennan rubbed her wrists.

"Can we have our stuff back?" Booth asked the guard.

"Yeah Booth?" Angela said. "You might wanna remove that pretty accessory of yours and give it back to Brennan. I think she needs it."

They both blushed while Brennan unhooked the bra from Booth's back. He found he quite liked the touch of her fingers on his back. She found she liked leaving her fingers on Booth's back. They lingered just a little longer before Brennan returned her modesty.

"You mean, like your gun?" Angela smiled knowingly.

Booth nodded. "Yes, my gun."

The officer looked alarmed. "You're not going to hurt me, are you? Mr Agent?"

Brennan whispered to Angela, "What is he like seven? Mr Agent, honestly!"

Booth in turn asked the man, smirking after Brennan's comment, " No but is there a reason I should?"

"Last night, you threatened you were going to shoot me. I think you said, 'I'm gonna shoot your ass so hard it'll make your hair scream blue murder' " the man said, obviously too timid to be an officer.

"Right kids," Angela said before Booth could laugh, "Let's just collect our stuff and go, right?"

"Ok," Brennan agreed. When Booth turned to help Brennan put her jacket on, aloud band nearly left him needing CPR.

"Whoops," the guy said, indicating a hole in the ceiling.

Booth took his gun and put the safety on, muttering something about, " Damn officers and anthropologists, all too damn trigger happy."

* * *

Outside, Booth shook his head, before saying to Brennan, "I think that guy was one Johnny Depp short of a pirate movie."

"Oh yeah," she answered. "I like him. He was in Pirates of the Mediterranean, wasn't he?"

Booth shook his head in amusement.

* * *

He wasn't so amused when Angela pulled up outside Brennan's apartment and told them both to get out.

"Apparently Angela thinks it's safer you stay here," Brennan said, indicating a couch to Booth.

"Yeah, apparently," Booth said, flopping down on one.

"We had a good time last night, didn't we?" Brennan asked him, sitting down beside him.

"We did," Booth said, smiling. "Until, you asked guys to take off your bra. Then we had a problem."

Brennan blushed before rising her head in a challenging manner, "The blame doesn't all land on me. If I remember correctly you were the one rolling around on the floor at one point. Why Booth?"

"Because he was trying to chat you up and …take off your bra!" Booth spluttered in annoyance.

"Yes, I know that. I meant why does it matter?" she asked, her voice showing she was truly curious.

"Because…" Booth knew he was fighting a losing battle, so went for the truth.

" Because those slime balls don't deserve a beautiful woman like you. I wanted to be wanted by you." He shut his eyes, waiting for a resounding slap to be heard.

Brennan was touched by Booth's words. She leaned over and touched heads with him He opened his eyes, gazed deep into hers.

"But you are wanted." she whispered, letting her lips gently meet his.

After the soft kiss, Booth broke away and laughed.

"What?" she asked.

"I think we should keep you away from the drink for a while," he said.

"I'm going to agree with you. But you're thinking about that now?" Brennan wondered aloud.

"Only because ponies and bras get the worst end of the deal with you," he replied, stroking her cheek. "I was just wondering if I was the same."

"Never," she answered. "You are neither a bra or a pony, thought I might be inclined to say you're a bra-wearing pony."

Booth laughed before leaning in for another kiss.

* * *

A/N: Ok that's the end of this kids. I know this chapter wasn't very funny but we had to wrap it up at some point. I can now spend the rest of my time working on my other stories. I credit the idea of this chapter to niah1988.

Thank you for the many hours of enjoyment I got from this!


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